


Just Another Coffee Shop AU

by PrincessMuk



Category: While We Were Gone
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 10:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14851412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessMuk/pseuds/PrincessMuk
Summary: Elliot's life as a barista wasn't that interesting. He saw the same types of people every day. You had your hipsters, your teenage girls, your tired parents, your dying college students . . . But one day, someone comes in that catches his eye.





	Just Another Coffee Shop AU

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Megan ofc](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Megan+ofc).



> Hey y'all! I happen to know the author (bc I'm literally the entire fandom rn) and she wanted me to write this for her, so here we go! First work in the fandom to ever exist!!! I'm excited. I hope everyone is in character! (Btw, they're like in their twenties for this fic)

Elliot's life as a barista wasn't that interesting. He saw the same types of people every day. You had your hipsters, your teenage girls, your tired parents, your dying college students . . . everyone fit into a type. It was pretty easy for Elliot to tell which category someone fell into, whether it was by the way they carried themselves, the clothes they wore, or the drink they ordered. But within them entering and leaving the shop, Elliot could always tell what kind of person he was dealing with, and he knew exactly how to cater to each one of them. This wasn't really just limited to his part-time job at the Starbucks on Main Street, though he was usually too busy to meet new people. Still, he always knew how to deal with the people that came into his shop.

That was until some dude in a polo shirt and slacks walked in with a few daffodils and sat at the table usually reserved for people trying to use the wall plug by the window. Elliot watched him carefully, trying to be discreet as he analyzed him. He was most definitely waiting for somebody, probably a date based on the nice clothes and flowers. He was pretty good looking, probably around the same age as he was, though he seemed a little impatient underneath his excitement. So . . . he was just another guy waiting for his girlfriend. Elliot could deal with that.

After he served the last customer in line their drink, he looked back to the man, pursing his lips as he watched him scroll through his phone. He looked nervous. Maybe he wasn't waiting for his girlfriend, then . . . maybe this was their first date.

With that in mind, Elliot opened the small door to get out from behind the counter and headed towards the guy's table, giving him a small smile when he looked up. "Would you like to order anything while you wait for your date?"

"I . . . " the guy blinked, mouth open in surprise. "How did you know--"

"Barista's intuition," Elliot blinked with a small chuckle. "Also, you're literally holding flowers."

The man looked at the flowers for a moment, as if he'd forgotten they were there, and then shrugged when he looked back at Elliot, "What if I just really like flowers? I mean, I work at a damn  flower shop."

_Wow, that's kinda rude._

Elliot tried to remain cheerful as he answered, "well, that's nice."

"Yeah . . . but that's not really your business," he set the flowers on the table before he crossed his arms. "I don't need anything from you. You can leave."

 _Oh, so_ that's _how he wants to play it._

Elliot gave his patented dealing-with-an-idiot-customer smile, remembering that he couldn't just go and get fired because he told some dude off. "Of course," he said through his teeth, turning around and going back behind the counter before he dropped the act. When the guy looked back at his phone, Elliot glared at him. Okay, maybe he was just snappy because he was nervous about his date. But that wasn't an excuse to be so rude when he was just trying to help!

Elliot looked away when another customer entered, forgetting about the guy for the moment as he took their order. Whatever, he'd be glad when that guy left.

Many customers later, Elliot realized that the guy . . . was still sitting there. Not just that, but it had been like an _hour_ and his date still hadn't shown up. Elliot felt a bit of sympathy for the guy -- who was currently chewing on his lip and typing away on his phone -- but he was still a bit pissed at him for being so rude earlier. Still, he couldn't sit there forever, and the shop was going to close in half an hour, so . . . he better make sure everything was alright.

Again, he walked over to the table, a (fake) smile on his face greeting the man once he looked up. "Is your date running late?"

"What do you care?" the man shot back defensively.

Elliot put his hands up in mock surrender, "woah, woah, woah, buddy, chill out. I'm just asking because the shop is closing soon and I don't want you to get kicked out."

The man's expression softened a bit at that, but that didn't stop him from frowning and looking down at his phone again. "He'll be here."

_He? Oh . . . so he's gay. Huh._

"Alright, if you say so. You sure you don't want anything?"

After a moment, the man looked back at him, biting his lip before saying, "no, I . . . I'm waiting until he gets here."

"Alright, whatever you want to do," Elliot shrugged, and then he walked back to the counter.

Nobody else really came in, leaving Elliot to wipe down the tables and begin to stack the chairs, yet the guy still sat there, waiting for a date that Elliot was beginning to think would never come. Elliot frowned as he watched the guy pick up one of the daffodils, twisting it around in his fingers as he stared blankly at it, probably coming to the same conclusion. Okay, so maybe he'd been a little rude before . . . but Elliot did feel bad that this guy had been waiting for so long, especially since he was probably being stood up. He must have really wanted to go on this date . . .

Elliot made his way to the counter and got out a coffee mug, filling it with a shot of espresso. He got out the steamed milk and went to work, creating a heart with some leaves on the bottom of it. Satisfied with the pattern, he grabbed a croissant and set it on a plate, a small smile on his face as he headed over to the man's table.

When the man rose his head again, he looked about ready to yell, but at the sight of the drink and food, his expression turned into more of an adorably confused one. "Wha--"

"It's on the house," Elliot said softly, setting the drink and croissant down on the table. "Sorry your date didn't show. But you should still get to enjoy your evening, at least a little bit."

The man just stared at him in shock, blinking as a light blush dusted his cheeks. "I . . . "

"I believe you're meaning to say 'thank you'?" Elliot gave a small chuckle, and the man nodded.

"Yeah, that." He paused, biting his lip. "I'm Michael, by the way."

"Elliot," he smiled, offering his hand for the other to shake. Michael took it with a small smile, his grip firm just as Elliot had expected.

With a small nod, Elliot walked back to the counter, watching as Michael looked at the cup and smiled. He took a picture of it with his phone before taking a sip, a warm smile on his face afterward. The sight made Elliot smile, too, as he wiped down the counter and poured the extra coffee into a cup for him to take home himself (not exactly protocol, but hey, he didn't give a crap). Elliot noticed Michael writing something down on his napkin after he finished his coffee and croissant, his cheeks a little more colored than before when he set it back down. Finally, he stood, giving Elliot a small wave and a smile before leaving the shop, the little bell on the door jingling after him.

Curiously, Elliot walked over to the table, picking up the plate and cup before he saw the napkin underneath.

___Thanks for making me feel better. Sorry for being rude. I didn't have a good date tonight, but maybe I can have another one?  555-2368 ♡_

Holy shit. Did . . . did he just write his number on a napkin? Elliot picked it up and read it again, blushing a little when he realized that this was meant for him to text and possibly ask out. Holy shit. 

All Elliot could do was give a small chuckle, folding the napkin and putting it into his pocket before he walked the dishes over to the sink and washed them. He put up the chairs on the last few tables before he took the napkin out again, cheeks warm as he typed the number into his phone.

> _Phone number on a napkin, huh? A little cliche ;)_
> 
> **I know it was stupid but you were really nice to me and I'm bad with words**
> 
> _Yeah, I got that part._
> 
> _Anyway, you seem nice enough when you're not anxious for a date lol_
> 
> **Oof yeah sorry about that**
> 
> **Again**
> 
> _It's okay..._
> 
> _And about that date..._
> 
> _I think it would be nice_
> 
> **Yeah?**
> 
> _Yep_
> 
> **Cool**
> 
> **So**
> 
> **Uh**
> 
> **Saturday?**
> 
> _Haha sure_
> 
> _Wanna see a movie?_
> 
> **Sure!**
> 
> _Awesome_
> 
> _See you then :)_

Okay, so maybe sometimes people came into the shop that Elliot didn't quite know how to deal with at first. But by the end, he was always sure they were satisfied, and sometimes . . . he was satisfied, too.


End file.
